All the Wrong Reasons
by Maeghan Sullivan
Summary: Samantha Lawrence is just your everyday, average, moody teenager with only one thing on her mind. Well, except for the fact that her mood swings tend to get pretty violent on the night of the full moon, and that one thing on her is actually revenge. Or, at least, that WAS the only thing on her mind, before she actually arrived in the small town of Beacon Hills.
1. Chapter 1

She was _screwed_ - absolutely, undeniably, _completely_ screwed.

Blinking closed her eyes for a minute, the eighteen year old focused on slowing her breathing and, by default, her racing heart. It wasn't enough to make her completely undetectable, as the rhythmic sound of the pounding of her blood in her head constantly reminded her. Still, forcing herself to calm down at least helped make her panting less obnoxious, and with the added noise of the old radio she'd found and miraculously been able to turn on, she figured she might have a chance at getting away.

A very, very small one. A loud _clinking_ sound came from behind the old wooden door she was pressed against, and when she strained her ears, she was fairly certain she could hear the scuff of a shoe one the concrete flooring. Or maybe she just _wanted _to hear one, because it meant that her pursuer was in the narrow hallway right behind her. Normally, that would rank on the list of ten worst things at the moment, but considering that it meant the man was several obstacles separated from her, it currently ranked as _wonderful_.

She blew out a single, calming breath, her heart rate steady once again, before letting her eyes fly open and launching herself diagonally forward. The balls of her feet pressed down three times in sharp, powerful bursts, and only a second later, she threw herself through the window, ignoring the few fragments of glass that clung to her arms. She landed without much grace on the ground two stories lower, one ankle twisting a bit on contact and sending her body tumbling into a short summersault. She was on her feet again in seconds, and she didn't bother to take the time to glance over her shoulder before she sprinted off again.

She knew who was chasing her. She knew that he was fast, strong, and a few years older than her, but she knew that _she_ was faster and stronger. Unfortunately, she _also_ knew that he wasn't alone - not by a long shot.

And _that_ was why she all of a sudden jerked her body to the left, unable to skid to a halt in time but at least able to redirect her momentum. Instead, she ended up doing a relatively cool half-run up one of the trees before flipping backwards and landing on the ground - this time much more gracefully. A short burst of a breath escaped her in relief, her eyes narrowing in on the thin, nearly undetectable wire that was barely a foot in front of her, running between the two trees she had just been about to cross through. A _trip wire_ - one that likely would have resulted in her capture had she not fully trusted her instincts, had she not seen the smallest reflection of light and immediately sensed that something was off.

She didn't have time to thank the gods for her attention to detail, though, and so with one last little deep breath, she pushed up off of her hands and knees again, this time sprinting off to the left and hoping that she still had several seconds' worth of an advantage, because she was going to need it.

She only got a few yards.

A large body slammed into her from out of nowhere, sending her tumbling to the ground with the man's arms latched firmly around her. She didn't even have time to figure out who had caught her before she was somewhat roughly shifted, her body pulled back against what felt like a strong chest, a hand locked tightly over her mouth. She didn't need to look at the dark-jean-covered legs that were on either side of her to know that the man who'd caught her had _not_ been one of the ones chasing her. She trusted those senses of hers, and everything about the man she couldn't even see screamed _werewolf_.

More than that, everything about him screamed _alpha_, and _that_ was what had her freezing silently, making no move to try and remove the hand from around her mouth or otherwise break out of his grip. She wasn't able to _relax_, per say, because her muscles remained tensed and ready move at any second should she need to. And, as the voices of her pursuers started to grow louder, she decided that second might be coming very, _very_ soon.

A few tense moments passed and - fortunately - so did the voices, but still, she didn't move, the man's hands remaining over her mouth and on her upper arm. It wasn't until several minutes had passed since the last time a single sound from them had been heard that the alpha's hand slipped down from her lips, the grip on her arm releasing. _That_ was when she pushed herself forward, quick to hop to her feet and spin around to face the dark-haired man.

"Derek Hale," she drew out, lips twisting into a smile as she let her brown eyes flash golden-yellow just as she met his alpha-red gaze.

"So you _do_ know you're trespassing on my land - _good_." He didn't appear amused or even slightly okay with the fact, but at least he wasn't straight up attacking her. No, as he glared back at her with those bright red eyes of his, he did nothing more aggressive than cross his arms over his chest. "Want to tell me who _you_ are and what the hell you think you're doing here?"

Her smile fell, replaced by a determined line as she gave a little nod. She shouldn't have expected anything else, after all, though she really hadn't been expecting him to appear out of nowhere and help her hide, either. "My name's Samantha Lawrence, and obviously I'm an omega. It's not exactly a safe lifestyle, though, so when I heard there was a new alpha in Beacon Hills..." she explained, trailing off pointedly when she felt the remaining phrase would be obvious enough.

"You want to join my pack?" His expression was a mixture of surprise and suspicion.

"I was hoping to talk about that with you, yes," she confirmed, the smile reappearing briefly, "but that was before I went to knock on your door and got chased through the woods by hunters. You've got a bit of an... _infestation_ of them at the moment, don't you?"

There was an ironic smile on his face as he looked back at her, cheeks twitching upwards and exposing his fangs in a display of his utter lack of amusement. "Why did you come here?"

"I just said that being an omega wasn't safe, didn't I?" she attempted, voice dripping with sarcasm, but one good look at the alpha before her had her coughing awkwardly, her gaze dropping to the floor. Direct answer it was, then. "Look, I know about the Alpha Pack, okay? I know they're going to come here, and I know _you_need to build a pack so that you can be prepared when they come. I want to help."

This time, his expression _was_ amused, one of those dark eyebrows of his arching up in question. "_You_ want to _help_? Why?"

"Because they destroyed my pack - my _family_. So, I'm currently all for anything to spite them, and right now, it seems like the best way to do that is to side with _you_." She was getting to him - she could tell by the look of contemplation that appeared on her face - and so she quickly decided she needed to sell herself. "Look," she tried again, "if _I_ was able to find out about your new alpha status, that means it can't be long before it attracts _their_ attention, too, and that means that you can use all the help you can get. I've been a werewolf my whole life, alright? I know how to control myself, I know how to fight, and I know a few things about _them_. I can add power to your pack, and I can help you train anyone you turn. There's really no downside, here."

There wasn't - she couldn't think of any reason why he'd turn her down, but that didn't stop her from standing there and worrying as he only considered her, gaze trailing down her body for a moment before looking back into her eyes as if he was searching for something.

"I'm a good beta, Derek," she added after the silence became a bit unbearable to her, "I've been raised to be one all my life, and I take direction _very_ well. Let me help."

"Let you _help_? Or let you _get revenge_?"

She understood where his question was coming from, and she couldn't help but let out a reluctant sigh. He'd know if she lied, so she didn't bother trying to. "I'm not denying that I want revenge, but I'm a _wolf_," she stressed, looking right into his eyes as she spoke. "I'm not asking to be an omega in your territory; I'm asking to be one of your betas. And as much as I want revenge, I wouldn't put my pack in danger just to get it - I _won't_ risk losing another pack."

Her answer had him pursing his lips a bit as he leaned back, but even though he didn't really change his posture, she could sense the change in the air. "How old are you?"

It was her turn to arch an eyebrow. "Just turned eighteen," she told him with another little twitch of her lips up into a smirk.

As his gaze trailed over her once more, he mimicked the expression. "Think you could pass for a high school sophomore?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: 41 visitors, 6 follows, and 3 favorites - I'm honored, guys! I figured I'd return the favor by posting a pretty big chapter; let me know what you think! (:**

* * *

"We've got an omega problem."

"Yeah, there seems to be an _infestation_ of them lately."

At that, the young woman pulled her head back in mock offense, gaze snapping to the man just in time to see a flicker of a smirk appear on his lips. She pursed hers in response, giving an indignant little snort before rolling her eyes at him. "Please! As if you aren't _thrilled_ that you found me wandering the woods last week."

The ghost of a smirk was back as he shifted in his seat, leaning so that his elbows rested on the table between them. "You mean when I saved your ass from the Argents?"

Again, she rolled her eyes, reaching forward and snatching up the picture of who she'd been told was _Chris Argent_. She sent a glance at it before turning it to her alpha, both of her eyebrows arching at him in challenge. "These guys? I was already out of their range, and I would have lost them in no time on my own, _thank you very much_," she told him, a sarcastic little smile on her face for emphasis. The smile dropped after a moment to be replaced with a pointed stare. "But seriously; you _are_aware of the omega in the territory, right? Because something tells me he isn't _nearly_as desirable as me."

For a second, Derek looked as if he was about to add a sarcastic little response of his own, but he seemed to change his mind, instead nodding simply and leaning back in his chair. "You scented him, too, then? He was west of the town yesterday; I'm going to try to track him down tonight."

"I'll help," Samantha supplied, accenting the offer by slapping the photo back down onto the table. There was a wide smile on her lips as she looked back up at the man, her head tilting sweetly. She nearly laughed at the way he rolled his eyes at her; they seemed to do that a lot.

"If you've got all the paperwork done and everything's set up for tomorrow," he conceded, an eyebrow of his own arched in question, as if he suspected she hadn't completely all of her assigned tasks.

"Tomorrow morning I'll be the newest member of Beacon Hills High School's sophomore class," she proudly declared, before letting her grin fall into an overdramatic scowl. "You _so_ owe me for making me take Chemistry again, for the record."

He rolled a shoulder. "You need to get a diploma at some point, you know."

"But I didn't need to go back to _sophomore year_ to do it; I _did_ finish my Junior year before... well, _everything_, you know. I've already got credit for Chemistry."

As expected, though, Derek's expression was completely unsympathetic. "Then it should be a piece of cake. Now, come on, let's review."

She didn't bother to object, leaning forward and eyeing the collection of scattered photos with boredom. "Scott McCall," she announced, finger landing on the image of the black-haired teenager, "your on-again off-again werewolf buddy." She took supreme pleasure in the darkening of his glare, but left it at that and instead moved her finger to the next photo. "Allison Argent, an _Argent_. Jackson Whittemore, turning on the full moon. Lydia Martin, _also_ turning on the full moon. Stiles Stilinski, human with a _really_ unfortunate name who knows about all things supernatural. Alan Deaton, probably _not_ just a veterinarian." Finger pulling away from the final picture, she let her hand fold into a fist and propped her chin up on it. "Did I pass?"

He didn't appear pleased by her cocky attitude, but he also didn't appear irritated enough to comment on it. "Don't forget about the rest of the hunters."

"Argents and Co., _got it_. Anything else?"

"Yeah," he drew out, sarcastic smile back on her face. "Stop being a smart-ass."

* * *

"Go left, _now_!"

She didn't hesitate to obey the command, launching out of her standstill and springing off to the left, dodging various trees as she went. She kept her movements as quiet as possible, but given that she was supposed to be going as _fast_ as possible, her steps weren't exactly the quietest. She veered off to the right, her gaze flickering between the trees ahead of her - so that she didn't run head-first into one - and the ones to the right - hoping to catch a glimpse of the omega they were tracking.

She came to a stop after a few hundred yards, a hand resting on one of the trees as she allowed her eyes to glow yellow, her predator gaze offering her a sharper perspective. Still, she came up with nothing, even as she strained her ears in an attempt to pick out even the slightest sound.

Normally, tracking a trespassing omega wouldn't have been so supremely difficult, but with a handful of hunters in the same forest at the same time, it wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world.

_Footsteps!_ From the direction of them, it sounded as if they were Derek's, and so Samantha was quick to launch forward again, this time cutting diagonally right so that one of them would hopefully be able to cut off the omega. The loud crashing noise from just a little ways ahead of them told her that their attempt wasn't going to work out as planned, however.

She cursed under her breath, wondering what exactly the omega had gotten himself into - and whether it involved the Argents. A hand landed on her shoulder just as she reached the edge of the woods, pulling her to a stop alongside her alpha.

Together, they surveyed the cemetery in front of them, the both of them checking for traps before letting their gazes land on the tipped-over backhoe and a grave that, though currently hidden from their view by a large gravestone, was anything but silent.

The hand on her shoulder lifted to give a single pat before the man beside her sprang forward in action, moving toward the grave and giving off a very _alpha_ roar, one that had a head popping up from behind a gravestone and sending the omega sprinting off in the opposite direction. Though a part of her instinctively wanted to_chase_, she waited, looking to her alpha for the command.

Derek's head gave a nod in the direction of the fallen backhoe, and when she listened carefully, Samantha was able to discern the sound of a racing heart and shallow breathing. Someone had been working, _this late_? Quickly, she moved toward the machine, helping the man to right it, before taking a step toward the newly-dug grave.

Once more, however, a hand appeared on her shoulder, her alpha giving a subtle shake of his head before nodding in the direction that the other werewolf had disappeared in. She didn't ask for his reasoning, simply giving a little nod of acknowledgement before taking off. She was already leaving the cemetery and entering the woods again when Derek's voice reached her ears. "Need a hand?"

She didn't hear anything more of the conversation, too focused instead on the the sound of retreating footsteps that she could just _barely_ make out in the distance. She could do it - she could catch up to him. And so, her arms pumping at her sides and her breaths coming in short bursts, she pushed herself into her fastest sprint, her blonde hair whipping behind her in the breeze she was creating.

For the third time that night, however, just as she was starting to get close to catching up, a harsh voice appeared to the right, followed by a loud gunshot. Cursing again, she managed to skid to a halt and whip her head in the direction of the noise, one of her hands balling into a fist and then uncoiling a few times in an outward display of her agitation as she remained there for a moment, internally debating whether she should risk it.

A second gunshot, this time much louder, made the decision for her, causing her to kick back off of the ground and run off the way she had come. If she wanted to chase after the omega and _not_ get caught by the hunters in the process, she'd need to backtrack a bit before looping back around and attempting to catch the man's scent.

* * *

"He dug up a _grave_."

"I know."

Sighing, Samantha drew her bottom lip into her mouth, teeth biting down lightly. "What kind of an omega _digs up a grave_?"

The sound of a snort reached her ears, and she couldn't help but allow her lips to pull into a small smirk. "The kind that isn't _nearly_ as desirable as you."

Her smirk widened into a somewhat cocky grin, but she didn't say anything more on the matter. Tilting her head, she allowed her gaze to trail over the scene before her, the cemetery not nearly as empty in the early morning light. She eyed each of the police officers, not particularly liking how close a few of them were to their current luring spot, before finally settling her attention on the Sheriff and the two civilians that were standing at the center of everything. Her gaze lingered on the curly-haired teen; he seemed nervous, but that was to be expected after everything he'd experienced in the past few hours, after all.

"How'd he react?" she asked after a moment, not bothering to even glance in her companion's direction, still all too interested in observing the younger man's posture.

"Surprisingly well," Derek answered, her peripheral vision telling her that he'd cocked his head to the side as he spoke. "What do you think?"

"Of him?" she confirmed, tilting her head in consideration when her question didn't earn a correction. Her ears tuned into the conversation for a moment, listening as the teen repeated that he hadn't actually seen anything. "I think he has potential," she decided, before letting out a quiet snort at the father's interjection. She gave her head a little shake. "_And_," she added after a moment, "I think that black eye of his had nothing to do with lacrosse."

As if he knew that they were talking about him, the curly-haired boy looked up over the Sheriff's shoulder, his eyes making contact with Derek before trailing over to her. She just stood there and looked back at him, hands tucked in her brown leather jacket's pockets.

And then the Sheriff shifted just the slightest bit, and both Samantha and Derek darted off to the sides, each of them quick to hide themselves behind a tree so that they wouldn't be seen. There wasn't as much of a risk about being _heard_ though, not when everyone behind them had human hearing.

"That omega is going to cause more trouble, you know. Are you _sure_ you don't want my help trying to track him down before the sun goes down and he does something_like this_ again?" she asked, even though she was fairly certain that she already knew the answer. Letting her head roll to the side and ignoring the bark that caught her hair as she did, the blonde met Derek's gaze.

"Already trying to get out of Chemistry?" he returned, before leaning forward and peering around the tree again. Apparently they were in the clear, for he stepped out from behind the cover toward her, gesturing with a jerk of his head for her to follow. "No, I want you to go to school like we planned, keep an eye on Jackson, and while you're at it, keep an eye on Isaac, too."

Keeping in stride with him, the teenager sent him a glance and pointed behind them in question. "Isaac Lahey?" she asked somewhat rhetorically in confirmation, thumb tossed over her shoulder as she repeated the name she'd heard the curly-haired boy recite for the Sheriff. "Can do."

"He hasn't made up his mind yet."

Once more, her lips pulled into a wicked grin. "Then maybe I'll give him a reason to."

"Just keep an eye on him," the alpha stressed, expression serious. As he gave her another once-over, his lips tugged down into a frown. "And don't be late to school on your first day. _Go_!"

* * *

She wasn't late to her first class.

Just as the bell rang, Samantha Lawrence skidded over the threshold into her history classroom, a victorious grin on her face despite the stern look she received from the teacher, who was already standing in front of the chalkboard as if he'd started the lecture before the class had even officially begun.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss Lawrence," the man drawled. "I trust you won't make this a habit," he added pointedly, before flicking a hand in the general direction of the class. "Now take a seat and get out your notebook."

She didn't argue, simply turning her attention to the rows of students now staring at her, her gaze sweeping over the different faces and very quickly picking out the two familiar ones that she recognized. There was good news and bad news; the good news was that McCall didn't appear to be in the class, which meant she didn't have to worry about explaining who she was or where she came from to the loner werewolf, but the bad news was that there were only two available open seats - one right next to the hunter, and one right behind her.

She played it cool, walking to the seat with nothing but a friendly smile on her face as she passed by Allison Argent and made her way to the seat behind her. She dropped her bag by the side of the table, pulling out the chair and turning to the large teen she'd apparently be sharing a table with, only to have something behind the man catch her eye - _Isaac_. He was looking at her from his seat across the room, though as soon as he realized she was looking back at him, he ducked his down and averted his gaze. _Huh_.

"Hi there," she whispered as she turned her attention back to to her neighbor, dropping down into the seat but making no move to actually retrieve her notebook. "I'm Sam," she offered instead, extending a hand, and smiling when he hesitantly took it.

"Boyd."

"Nice to meet you! Now... want to tell me what you did to scare everyone off from being your desk partner?" she asked, a lopsided smile on her face as she attempted to break the ice. It didn't work as planned, however, and when he frowned instead of chuckled, her own smile fell. Apparently she'd said something wrong.

Coughing quietly to cover up the awkwardness, the blonde went ahead and actually fished out her notebook then, though she wasn't able to pay much attention to the lecture when she kept feeling eyes on the back of her head. She knew who was looking at her, of course, but every time she tried to arch an eyebrow back at him, his face quickly dropped down toward the table, his arm moving into place so that it blocked him from view.

The rest of the class went pretty much just like that - the teacher droning on, her making a few under-the-breath comments that had Boyd making small noises that sounded suspiciously like muffled laughter, and Isaac staring at the back of her head. Luckily, at no point was she ever asked to introduce herself, so she considered it a successful class.

The second the bell rang, she was up out of her seat, bag already tossed over her shoulder as she attempted to weave her way through the rushing students and catch a few moments with the curly-haired teen.

"Miss Lawrence!"

She had a strong urge to pretend she hadn't heard the teacher call her name, but by the time that idea came to mind, she'd already paused in her step. Sighing, she turned back around, looping her second arm through the strap of her backpack as she waited to find out what was going on.

"I got the note informing me of your transfer, but it didn't say anything about your previous coursework. Where did your class leave off?"

"Um..." She really should have thought to flip through the book before class... or at least actually listened to the lecture enough to know what unit they were on. "...Right about where we are now?"

Apparently her answer was sufficient, for the teacher gave a pleased nod. "Oh, good! Then there's nothing you need to catch up on, and that means no excuses if you don't do well on the upcoming midterm." He fixed a smile in her direction, no doubt in response to the fact that he wouldn't have extra work to do. "In that case, have a good rest of your first day."

She was quick to nod in response, spinning right back around on her heels and making her way toward the door.

"And, Miss Lawrence?" he added just as she was about to turn the corner, earning a quiet sigh and a glance over the shoulder. "Be in your seat before the bell rings tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir." She didn't give him time to add anything else before disappearing into the hallway.

And, _of course_, when she turned around, the hall was full of students but there was no sign of the one she'd been hoping to catch. Letting out a sigh, the eighteen year old raised a hand and ran it through her hair before pausing, pulling the hand back down, and looking at the now slightly-smudged class schedule she'd penned down on her palm earlier. The first two lines were now illegible, but she was _pretty damn certain_ that it said 110. Taking a quick glance at the room number behind her, she turned to the right and started toward her next class.

* * *

It hadn't said room 110.

She'd found the room, taken a seat toward the back of the class, taken out her notebook, and listened to ten solid minutes of lecture before she'd come to the realization that she was in the wrong class. She should have been able to tell_immediately_, since she most certainly was not enrolled in Senior English, but in her defense, when she hadn't immediately been kicked out of the room by the teacher, she'd figured that pretty much confirmed she was in the right place. But of course, she'd chosen to stumble into what was probably one of less than five classrooms with a substitute, and after ten minutes of sitting there, she figured the appropriate time to switch classes had passed.

She still wasn't sure what class she was supposed to have second period.

Shrugging off the thought, the blonde made her way down the hallway, already dreading the class that she knew was coming next - _Chemistry_. A part of her wondered how possible it would be for her to pull off _accidentally_ ending up in a second wrong class, but the second her eyes landed on a certain tall, hoodie-wearing teen about to step into the same classroom, she quickly reconsidered.

Seven quick steps forward had her at the young man's side, her arm looping around the one he had resting at his side. Even as she felt him jerk a bit in surprise, she strengthened her grip, flashing a quick grin up at him. "We should talk," she told him, leading him past the classroom and down the hall, her gaze quickly flickering over the different rooms in hope of finding an empty one.

"I- I have a class now, though. I'm supposed to be in Chemistry, and-"

"So am I," she interrupted, sending a wink his way just as they came upon one of the rooms without a class this period. She lead him in, shutting the door behind them and finally releasing his arm. "You can miss _one class_, can't you, Isaac?"

"I don't... I really think I need to be in class. I'm already not-" He didn't sound like a blubbering idiot when he spoke or anything, but there were still minor hesitations.

"It's just _one_ class," she pointed out, "and - besides! - you have a note explaining that you had a dentist appointment."

"No I don't," he countered, his apprehensive expression morphing into one of confusion for a moment.

She grinned again, moving a few steps deeper into the room and tossing her backpack down onto the table. It took her two seconds to pull out a piece of paper and a pen and have herself propped up on one of the counters, legs crossed beneath her as she popped the cap off of the pen. "Well, you will in a moment," she amended, waiting for a few seconds to see if he would object. His eyes darted from her to the door. "I mean, if you'd _really_ rather sit through the pop quiz instead of taking it tomorrow - maybe after studying a bit tonight? - then we can just go to class."

His eyes widened. "Pop quiz?"

Samantha simply nodded. "He walked by my last class talking about picking them up from the printing room." Arching an eyebrow, she let the back of the pen tap down onto the notebook in her lap. "What'll it be, Isaac? Quiz or conversation?"

The younger man sighed, looking torn for another moment before finally stepping further into the room and letting his own backpack fall to the ground. As he leaned back against one of the tables, his hands folding in his lap and apparently captivating his attention just as the bell rang.

"I promise our conversation will be more fun than the quiz," she said as she jotted down the date, her handwriting a smooth cursive and her tone formal, having had a lot of practice impersonating a parent over the past few days. She didn't say anything as she worked on writing out the note.

"You were with Derek Hale earlier," he commented, the unspoken question obvious even as he glanced up at her and tucked his head down again.

"I _am_ with Derek Hale," she corrected, her own answer left to be implied from her words. She let the conversation die away for a moment as she scribbled down a messy signature, before rereading the note and giving her head an approving little bob. Tossing the pen and notebook aside, excuse note on top of it, she turned her full attention back to the young man, lips pursing as she considered him for a moment. "You're nervous."

"Look, if you're worried that I might say anything or- or tell anyone anything at all, I already promised Derek that I wouldn't, and you don't have to worry abou-"

"Isaac," she interrupted, her head giving a little shake as she smiled at him, "I _know_. I'm not here to threaten you, so you can _relax_; I just thought we should chat."

Her response didn't appear to put him at ease. "About what?"

"Derek seems like the type to get things done quickly, so I thought maybe you'd want to ask some questions before you made up your mind, or just... I don't know, talk out your options or something. Do you have any questions, Isaac?"

He looked up at her through thick eyelashes, seeming to consider her for a moment. "So you're a...?" he trailed off, as if he was afraid to say the word.

She simply smiled. "Yes; I was born one, like Derek."

"You're not really a sophomore, are you?"

"Technically I am right now," she replied, shrugging a shoulder in indifference, "but I'm not _supposed to be_, no. I just turned eighteen; I _should_ be a senior right now, but... well, let's just save that story for another day. It's easiest if I'm a sophomore right now."

"So that you can keep an eye on me." He sounded so distrusting when he said it, and she almost wanted to laugh, but luckily realized that probably would have only _added_to the distrust.

She wasn't able to contain the amused smile on her lips. "Isaac," she tried again, voice as soothing of a tone as possible, "I'm really not here to threaten you, or to lurk in the shadows behind you as a constant reminder for you not to say anything. We weren't at the cemetery this morning to do that, either," she added, not even sure herself if that was a slight lie. At least, she knew for sure that wasn't the _main_reason. "We just wanted to make sure you were holding up and everything. You had an... _interesting_ experience yesterday, and you got a lot of new information that you probably weren't prepared for. How _are_ you-"

She cut herself off, her sensitive hearing inadvertently picking up on a commotion down the hall. Raising a hand in a gesture to tell him to wait for a second, she hopped down from the counter and made her way over to the door, pulling it open and peeking her head out just in time to see Jackson Whittemore sprinting down the hall, hand over his nose. Her brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she replied as she closed the door again, turning around and glancing at the now-concerned looking teen. The way the light hit his face at that specific angle had the bruise around his eye standing out even more, and for a moment, she almost forgot about Jackson. "Here," she started, changing the topic as she made her way over to her backpack. Pausing just long enough to shoot Derek a quick text, the blonde fished around inside of the bag until she pulled out a little make-up carrier.

"What are you doing?" the human was quick to ask as soon as she started toward him.

Again, she could only smile at his distrust. "Helping you hide that shiner of yours." She stepped over to his side, figuring that a direct approach might feel too trapping for him if he was _already_ that uncomfortable, and placed a gentle hand under his chin, tiling his head up until she had the best angle for it. She used her other hand to smooth a small amount of concealer over the marking, and even though she tried as hard as she could to keep her touch light and gentle, he still winced at the contact. "Sorry!"

"It doesn't hurt that bad." His heartbeat didn't skip - his words apparently ringing true - and she could only arch an eyebrow.

"Looks like you got hit pretty hard, there." She kept her tone light, her words an observation, not an accusation.

"Lacrosse." _There_ was the skip.

Still, she kept her mouth shut, simply humming out a sound of understanding. She gave another little sweep of her finger as she applied just a dab more of the concealer, working for another second to smooth it all out, before leaning back and giving his face another once-over. He was staring at her with a look she couldn't quite place. She gave his chin a small pat and stepped away, clicking the container shut but making no move to tuck it back away in her bag, instead holding it up and waiting for him to take it.

It took him a moment before he reached for the small vial, confusion etched across his face as he looked back at her.

"You don't have to be a werewolf to hide your bruises," she told him, lips pulling into a kind smile. "Make-up works, too."

There was another long moment of silence that followed her words, a break which she used to re-situate herself on the counter. When he spoke again, his tone was apprehensive. "But, being a... _werewolf_... you, uh, heal faster, like Derek said?"

"_Much_ faster," she confirmed. "You can still feel it when you break a bone or something, of course, but it _heals_, and, at least from what I've heard, our pain tolerance is somewhat higher to begin with. Don't quote me on that, though."

"And you're stronger?"

It didn't take a genius to figure out where his questions were coming from. "_Much_stronger," she confirmed again, before pursing her lips in consideration. "We're not invincible, Isaac," she told him carefully, "and we have our own difficulties to face - like I know Derek told you about - but there _is_ a certain power that comes with the bite, a certain confidence... a certain sense of _belonging_. It makes _so_ many things so much better, and it would heal any _lacrosse injuries_ you might have, but, like I said, you don't have to be a werewolf to hide your bruises. Now, if you'd rather avoid the bruises altogether..." She rolled a shoulder, leaving the rest to be assumed.

It seemed to take him a minute to let that sink in, for he gave a small nod before letting his head drop down a bit, attention temporarily on the floor again. She chose not to push the conversation, instead sitting in comfortable silence and letting him_think_. She'd taken to swinging her legs lightly in the air and reading all of the encouraging posters around the room before he'd lifted his head again. And _that_ was the moment that the door to the room flew open, a somewhat rushed-looking Derek appearing out of nowhere.

"Sam, we need-" the alpha started, only to cut himself off and actually look between the two teenagers. His attention settled on the woman, expression showing his displeasure - or was it suspicion? She couldn't be sure. "Isaac," he greeted curtly, gaze flicking to him and then right back to Samantha. "I'm going to need you out of class after all. Do you have your things?"

She was easily able to decipher the tone of his voice to mean _grab your shit and lets go_, but that didn't stop her from arching an eyebrow at him. "You sure? There's still another half hour of Chemistry and-"

"_Now._"

Chuckling a bit, the blonde pushed off of the counter and hopped to her feet, wasting no time before snatching the sheet of paper and handing it off to the curly-haired teen. "It'd be more believable if you just hung out here until the bell and then turned this in tomorrow," she advised, already making her way to her bag. "Just think about it, alright? And you know where to find us if you make up your mind." She was already halfway to the door by that point. "It was nice actually meeting you, Isaac."

"_Yeah_," he drew out, making no move to return the comment. Instead, he simply lifted the note and concealer. "Thanks for... everything, I guess... Sam, was it?"

"_Oh!_" Suddenly, she was back at his side, hand extended in a _very_ delayed greeting. "Hi, I'm Samantha Lawrence!"

Derek's voice was quick to interrupt the moment. "_Sam_!"

A scowl appearing on her face, she dropped her hand before he'd even shaken it, turning around and trailing after her alpha before he _really_ lost his patience.


End file.
